I am real
by Cats070911
Summary: After the Thompson case, Tommy and Barbara encounter a strange woman with an angry black cat who claims to have come from a different dimension to help them. Will she be the catalyst for them finding love?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** all usual disclaimers apply.

For Tess, whose mind runs in a parallel universe.

This story is an unusual twist on my usual ILM theme and adds a slight sci-fi element. It actually came to me in a dream. I hope it works and that it is fun to read. It seems somewhat appropriate to publish today after the loss of Stephen Hawking who could probably explain my twisting of time.

By the way, I am writing less at the moment, so the next chapter will be posted at the weekend. I had this bright idea that I should return to uni to study full time just for the fun of it.

* * *

Clara saved the video she had edited then turned off her computer. It was after midnight, and she was tired. "Come on, Marlowe. Time for beddy-byes."

Her cat opened one eye and gave her his best 'do not disturb me human' look. Undeterred, she picked him up and held his flailing claws away from her jumper. "Now, now, young man. What would people think of such a disobedient animal?"

Marlowe wriggled free. Landing on his feet, he arched his back and settled the fur back into place in a black ripple that started behind his ears and ended with a dismissive flick of his tail. He stalked off to his cat box.

As Clara cleaned her teeth and prepared for bed, she tried not to get too excited. She needed to sleep. It was always exhausting taking such a long journey. But if her plan worked, it would be her most rewarding trip yet.

* * *

Detective Inspector Tommy Lynley stood beside his car and watched his partner walk away. This case had nearly broken her, and he was at a loss to know how to help. None of his reassurances had worked. He understood. Barbara had been duped by a manipulative woman who had preyed on her deepest fears. Unusually, his feisty sergeant had let her defences down, despite, or perhaps in spite, of his warnings. Tommy understood the emptiness of realising that you had been used, and knew too well what it felt like to crave affection and not have it returned.

"Damn it." Tommy feared that this could go badly. "Havers, wait."

* * *

Barbara hesitated. If she had continued to walk she could have pretended she had not heard him. That thought did not come fast enough. Instead, she had paused before walking faster. Heavy footsteps pounded behind her. "Barbara, please."

She stopped then exhaled a long breath through her nose. She inhaled slowly then turned. "Yes, Sir?"

"Don't walk away. Let's go somewhere. The pub? Fancy a pint? Or my place?" He ignored the way her eyebrows arched. "If you need to talk."

"I don't. We said it all. I was played. I made a fool of myself, and I've lost my edge. Maybe even my interest. I don't need your pity, Sir."

"It's not pity. I prefer to think of it as friendship."

Barbara shrugged. Her defences felt shredded. She was barely holding any of this together. "Sir, I'm tired. I just want to sleep. Call me tomorrow if you like, but please, not tonight."

Tommy nodded. She knew he was not convinced. "If you're sure."

"I am."

"Will you at least let me drive you home?"

Barbara sighed. It would be much faster than the bus, but Tommy's presence was dangerous. She shook her head. "No, I... need time."

Tommy ran his hand slowly through his hair. "Please, for my peace of mind. I'm... worried."

"Don't be. I won't do anything foolish if that's your concern."

"But I might."

Barbara knew this week had taken a toll on him too. "What?"

"No, no that. No. But if I don't know you're okay, I might follow the bus and then sleep in my car all night outside your flat just in case."

Barbara tried to stay calm. "In case of what?" she snapped.

"In case you need a friend."

He looked awkward, yet so sincere and sweet. She smiled and shook her head. "All right. Thank you."

* * *

Tommy was relieved that she had agreed. He took it as a positive sign. It would ensure she made it home safely and did not stop off somewhere to drown her sorrows. He shuddered at the thought of her falling into the arms of some drunken lout just to feel connected. Mind you, going to the pub and picking someone up was something he was more likely to do. Lynley was glad to have a reason not to do that tonight.

As they approached his car, he noticed a woman near his Bristol. "Who's that?"

Barbara shrugged. "No idea."

Loose cut jeans and a sloppy grey jumper did not disguise the woman's middle-age which was spread copiously over his bonnet. She was dangling her legs and kicking to rhythm known only to her. On her back, she had a lime green backpack with speaker cable that ran up to oversized red headphones.

"Get off my car."

The woman jumped down, pushed her headphones onto her neck, and smoothed her clothing. "Hello. It's wonderful to meet you both. I'm a huge fan."

Tommy was not listening. He crouched down and looked across the line of his bonnet checking for dents. His car seemed to have withstood the weight. "Who are you?"

"Clara Ross." The woman extended her hand. Her jacket meowed loudly.

Tommy stared at her and pointed to his vehicle. "This is a..."

The woman raised her hand. "Yes, yes, I know. It's a Bristol 410, a classic."

Barbara tried to hide a chuckle behind a sudden cough. Tommy glared at her, then the woman. "Then why did you sit on it?"

"To get your attention mainly."

"What do you want?"

"It's a long story." The woman removed her backpack and plonked it on his bonnet. The head of black cat appeared in the odd perspex bubble that was on the rear of the bag. It looked at him disdainfully and gave an angry snarl.

Tommy was aghast. "Is that a cat? It will suffocate."

"Nah, these things are designed for them. See these big holes on the sides and top. I can't travel without Marlowe."

Barbara walked closer. "Marlowe is cute."

"Don't encourage her, Havers." Tommy was becoming more and more annoyed. They had serious problems to discuss, and a mad cat woman was an unnecessary distraction. He turned Clara. "If you will excuse us, we have to be somewhere else."

"I hope you're going to Belgravia to have a good talk. There are so many things you two need to sort out. I'm here to help you."

Tommy moved towards the woman. He felt Barbara's hand on his arm. She was right. He should not let his anger overwhelm him, but he still shook her hand off. "Please take your imprisoned cat and go away."

The woman stood firm. "No. I've brought you a video to watch."

"If you wish to report a crime, then the desk sergeant will assist you. Now if you'll excuse us."

Clara stood firm. "I said no, Tommy."

Tommy and Barbara looked at each other and frowned. "Do I know you?"

"No, but I know both of you. That's why I can help."

"You're making no sense." He pushed past Clara and unlocked his car. "Barbara, get in."

Clara looked over at Barbara and shook her head. "Sometimes I wonder how you put up with such a ponce."

Tommy saw Barbara suppressing a grin by tightening her lips together. "Ignore her, Havers. Get in."

Barbara opened the door, but before she could get in the car, Clara pushed past her and settled herself into the passenger seat. "I've always wanted to sit here."

Barbara shrugged. "Look, Sir, I'll just catch the bus."

"No!" Clara and Tommy said in unison.

Tommy stared at Clara. "The mad cat lady is just leaving before I arrest her."

"If you arrest me, you will have to listen to my evidence."

"No, we will just have to testify in court about your harassment."

"I wouldn't do that, Tommy. It might be embarrassing."

"How do you know my name?"

"I know everything about you. Thomas Lynley, Eighth Earl of Asherton. Sent to Eton at 13. Studied Classics and History at Exeter College, Oxford. Your father died when you were only 17, not long after you caught your mother having an affair with his doctor."

Tommy saw Barbara's face. He had never told her about any of that. "Enough!"

Clara ignored him. "You didn't talk to your mother for years, and your brother Peter blames your abandonment of the family for his addiction issues. You joined the force to spite your mother and avoid being an earl. After a rocky start in Yorkshire, you rapidly rose through the ranks until you were partnered with Barbara here. Then nothing else mattered."

Tommy's eyebrows shot up when he heard her last sentence. "Look, I do not know who you are, or why you walk around with a cranky black cat strapped to your back, but I am giving you one final chance to get out of my car. Otherwise, I will arrest you for stalking."

Clara laughed. "I really wouldn't do that, love. I know too much."

"Are you threatening me?"

"No. I just want to help."

"Then leave."

Barbara stepped over to the car and stood above Clara. "The Inspector is right. You should move on, ma'am."

"Oh, Barbara. It's so sweet the way you try to protect him from himself, but in this case, no. You both need to hear what I have to tell you."

Tommy took a deep breath. "Then say it and go."

"Not here. Back in Belgravia would be best. I want to see your townhouse. I hope you moved out of that flat after Julia Oborne died so tragically."

"Right. That's it. Clara Ross, I am arresting you for stalking. You do not have to say anything but..."

"You can't arrest me."

"I can, and I have. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence..."

"Oh for heaven's sake, Tommy. I'm here to help you."

"If you do not mention..."

"You're not real."

Tommy grunted and shook his head. "If you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court."

"Yes, yes. We all know the Police Caution. I am not a stalker. I can prove it."

"How?" Barbara asked.

Tommy gave Barbara a savage look. "Don't encourage her."

"You are characters on a BBC television programme, The Inspector Lynley Mysteries. Your first case together was A Great Deliverance in Yorkshire where William Tey was decapitated in his barn."

Tommy and Barbara looked at each other. "That's on the record. Anyone with a contact inside the Met, or researching court records, could know about that case."

"Would they also know Barbara lied about sleeping with you because she thought you had slept with a suspect?"

"I did not..."

"We know that. We knew that before Barbara did."

"This proves nothing."

"What about the way you moped around, pathetically pining after Deborah?"

Barbara cleared her throat. "Sir?"

Tommy grabbed Clara's wrist. "Havers, get some help from inside."

Clara seemed unperturbed. "Or what about the night you arrived on Barbara's doorstep because you could not bear to be alone? What was the phrase, Barbara? That's it - 'I've never been married. I've never had anything you could call a relationship... You find something else that gives you the reason to get up in the morning. And I have that, don't I?' And what was your response, Tommy? 'We both do.'"

Tommy's hand began to shake. The conversation was just as he remembered it. He looked at Barbara. Her face was red, and her eyes were wide. "How?"

"I've watched that scene a hundred times."

The detectives looked at each other. A silent argument about what she had said ensued, but neither felt convinced. "We can't be characters," Barbara said slowly, "or we'd know it. I've been around a lot longer than just being partnered with the DI."

"Yes and no, love. When they create characters in a book, or a film, or television, they create a backstory for the characters. Once you are created, you live that in a different time dimension. It seems real. well, for you, it is real."

Barbara put her hand on the door frame of the car. "So what happens to us?"

"They cancelled your show. Lots of fans protested to the BBC, but it didn't change anything."

"So..." Barbara paused and frowned. "When the series ends we just vanish?"

"No, you continue to live in your parallel world. The actors move on. Fans won't know what happens to you, but you will live life as if it were real."

"But it is real," Tommy protested. "I. Am. Real."

Clara shook her head. "Ever wonder why nothing ever went right for you? Why you have such angst in your lives? Why you can never say the things you need to no matter how much you want to? It was the writer's playing for dramatic effect. There are times we could have choked them."

Barbara slumped against the car. "I feel ill. When were we cancelled?"

"A few years ago but in your world, the last scene was Tommy looking at you walking away a few minutes ago."

Tommy leapt out of his car and rushed around to Barbara. He put his arm around her shoulder and gently pulled her towards him. "It's okay. We're okay."

Barbara looked up. "Do you believe her?"

"One more test?"

Barbara nodded then turned to Clara. "Give us another example of a something only we would know."

Clara sighed. "After Helen's funeral, you saw Tommy's car parked at the foot of Primrose Hill. He was on the right end of the bench. You sat on the left. He asked what you were doing there, and you said, 'I dunno. Just… letting you know, when you're ready, that there _is_ a world out there.' And he said..."

Barbara put up her hand. "I remember." She looked up at Tommy. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "No need."

"I believe her."

Tommy looked at Clara who was smiling sentimentally. "You have something you want us to see?"

Clara nodded. "A DVD I have put together. I think it will help you move forward."

Tommy nodded. "You can sit in the back. That seat belongs to my sergeant."


	2. Chapter 2

"Take Clara into the back room. I'll order dinner."

The sizeable informal lounge room faced the back garden. A state-of-the-art flat screen television was wall-mounted above a fireplace. Barbara sat on the sofa and assumed Clara would sit next to her. Instead, she slipped off her backpack and sat in the comfortable chair that Tommy always sat in whenever he invited his sergeant around to review a case over a beer. Clara released her cat. It immediately began to stretch then jumped up on the back of the sofa and sat staring at Barbara.

"I'm not sure the Inspector will want that cat loose in his house."

"Marlowe is well behaved."

"But still."

On cue, Tommy appeared. "Right, I have taken the liberty of ordering pizza. Does anyone else need a dri... What the hell is that thing doing?"

Clara smiled as Marlowe leapt onto Tommy's leg and clung on. "He likes you. He doesn't like many people."

Barbara tried not to laugh at her boss's expression. She could only imagine Marlowe's claws digging into his thigh. Tommy's impeccable manners quickly covered his shock before anger started to narrow his eyes. He pulled the cat free and held it out to Clara. "Yours I believe."

Clara took the cat. "Come here, Marlowe. Tommy is pretending he doesn't like you."

"I'm not pretending."

Tommy looked at Barbara who raised her eyes. She had seen him surreptitiously stroking it behind its ear as he handed it back. "A drink would be good, Sir. I think I need something stronger than a beer."

He nodded. "Clara?"

"A bowl of milk perhaps?"

"For you or the animal?"

Barbara looked down. Unlike Tommy, she was struggling to keep a straight face.

Clara laughed. "For Marlowe. I will have one of your most expensive single malts, please. I didn't travel through time just to drink beer."

Barbara was curious. "How do you time travel?"

Tommy grunted. It is evident that he did not want to engage Clara in conversation. Clara smiled conspiratorially at Barbara. "I don't know. It's more that I can visit TV characters. If I am holding Marlowe and tell him I want to go there, poof! The first time was awkward. We ended up in the middle of Midsomer. I was nearly murdered."

"That's a pity," Tommy said sourly.

Clara ignored him. "So I said I want to go home, and poof, we were back. I tried to go back to the 1800s to meet my great-great grandfather, but nothing. It only works to drop me into TV universes, not visit the past in my own universe."

"Fascinating. Barbara, would you like to assist me with the milk?"

Feeling Clara's eyes on her, she stood and followed him to the kitchen. "She amazing."

Tommy grumbled something inaudible. "Really?"

"Can today get any weirder?"

Tommy opened his fridge. "Don't tempt fate. Let's see what she has to show us then say goodbye to her and her satanic cat."

"How do you get rid of a time travelling cat woman?"

"Carefully." Tommy poured some milk into a cereal bowl.

"What?"

"It's a joke. You say that when... never mind. I'm sorry, Barbara. I am incredibly tired."

"Me too. I just want to go to bed and wake up to find it is a week ago and we haven't argued, and... that we are people not characters. I feel like Truman."

"The President?"

"No, the movie. He was a character in a reality TV show but didn't know it." Barbara saw Tommy's total confusion. "Never mind. I just wish we... you know what I mean. You've lost faith in me." Barbara looked down. She could not bear to see pity in his eyes.

"Quite the contrary."

Barbara looked up. Tommy put his arm around her. "You don't have to keep beating either of us up for arguing about Tania Thompson. I couldn't work out how to get the message through and... I was arrogant and did not handle it well. I'm the one who should apologise."

"We were both wrong. But I've seen what abuse can do..."

"Barbara, stop." Tommy rubbed his hand up and down her arm. "We can talk about the case later. Let's give it some space and get rid of that woman and her damned feline."

"Meow."

Tommy jumped a foot in the air. "Marlowe. Where did you come from?"

"I think you've offended him now."

Tommy leant down and let the cat slink in a figure of eight between his leg and his hand. He placed the dish of milk safely against the cupboard. "The way to any man's heart, eh Marlowe?"

"Purrrrr. Meeeooooowwwww!"

"You're welcome."

Barbara was tempted to ruffle Tommy's hair. He could not fool her. Underneath his upper-class bravado was a kind and caring man. She was grateful he was her friend. "Softie."

Tommy looked up and grinned at her. "Shh," he said putting his finger to his lips, "don't tell anyone."

* * *

Clara had made herself at home and was sitting in Tommy's chair. She held up the remote when they entered the room. "I found the remote and DVD player hidden in a cupboard beside the fireplace. I set it up ready to go. Hope you don't mind."

"Why would I mind?"

Barbara sat on the sofa. She looked up and smiled at Tommy's tone. He knew his way of saying one thing and meaning the opposite always amused her, even when he used it on her.

Clara did not recognise his meaning or chose to ignore it. "The show ran for almost 43 hours, but I've selected scenes that only run for about two..."

"Two hours?" Barbara made no pretence of covering her annoyance. She glanced at Tommy.

Clara shrugged. "We can probably skip through a few bits."

"Oh, I'd hate to miss anything important," Tommy said as he sat next to Barbara.

This time Clara understood his tone only too well. "I think you'll find that I covered everything you need to see. The first clips are interviews with each actor after the show." She pointed the remote at the cupboard. The television flickered to life. A young woman was addressing her audience.

"... and tonight's guest is probably best known for playing a posh detective in The Inspector Lynley Mysteries. Please welcome Nathaniel Parker." Both of the detectives gasped as Tommy's likeness appeared.

"Hello everybody. This is rather exciting." He was smiling and waved to the audience as he walked over and kissed the host on her cheek. "Delightful to be here."

"It is you." Barbara sounded both shocked and a little excited.

Tommy could not drag his eyes from the screen. The actor was open and witty and utterly charming. "No, it's not. Look at him. He's... relaxed and friendly. And funny. Besides, I'd never wear that shirt."

"Ponce," Barbara muttered.

"I heard that."

Clara paused the DVD. "He's truly lovely. All his interviews are like that."

Tommy looked at Barbara. Her face was flushed, and she seemed unwilling to tear her eyes from the screen. While he studied Parker, Clara must have been watching him, because the interview recommenced. The actor's whole face smiled as he spoke. He was enthusiastic, energetic and urbane - the antithesis of how Tommy felt. "You'd like him," he muttered, mostly to himself.

Barbara looked at him and frowned. "It's weird, isn't it? He's rather hot, but..."

"Hot?" Tommy looked away and studied Marlowe as the cat stalked back from the kitchen as if he owned the house. Their eyes locked, each reflecting the same anger.

"Hmm, but..."

"But what?"

"He's not you."

"Lucky for him. But he's not _me_. Not really. Not the _hot_ part at least."

"Meeeeoooowww." Marlowe stretched his back and dug his claws into Tommy's silk Persian rug. Lynley was about to tell Clara to put the cat back in his box when the cat flicked its tail and with a graceful leap, landed in his lap. He rubbed his bony head against Tommy's thigh before settling down and falling asleep. Tommy felt Clara's eyes on him. He looked up to see her smiling at him like an elderly aunt smiles at a young child. He could hear her words clearly even though her mouth was not moving and the only sound was laughter coming from the television as his doppelgänger told another funny story. "Don't be a fool, Tommy. You can trust your heart to Barbara. Surely she has proved that often enough."

"How do you know?"

Clara smiled and tapped the side of her nose.

Barbara looked across. "Know what?"

"Huh? Oh." He stalled for time. "That I'm not just some cardboard cutout brought to life by him."

Now Barbara shook her head. "You have to ask?"

"This might help you, Tommy," Clara said as she fast-forwarded the video. "This is an interview Sharon Small did about the show."

"Sharon? My actor is called Sharon?"

"Yes. Why?"

"He gets Nathaniel, a nice strong, unusual name and I get Sharon. Figures. Talk about class distinction."

Tommy tutted. "Don't be silly. How can..." He stopped as the actress started speaking.

"Oh, bloody hell," Barbara cried, "she's Scottish!"

Tommy laughed. "Don't sound so indignant."

"Oh right, so yours is a gorgeous hunk with a wonderful personality that you resent, but because I'm surprised mine is Scottish and not a Londoner, I'm the indignant one."

"She's amazing." Tommy was mesmerised. Sharon was wearing a tight but stylish dress that showed off curves he now knew lurked under Barbara's ill-fitting shirt. He felt a strong twinge that seemed disrespectful and inappropriate.

Barbara's stare was short but withering. "She seems talented."

"Hmm, yes, pure talent."

"Stop ogling her! She has my body."

Tommy gave Barbara a wicked grin. She folded her arms across her chest and turned partially away. He felt silly. Part of it had been payback for her obvious attraction to Parker, but he was being boarish. "I'm sorry."

"Whatever."

Clara laughed. "I think we should move on."

* * *

The opening scene shocked Barbara. Tommy's stoic pain was palpable. She had thought he was a lovesick puppy dog moping around Yorkshire, but for the first time, she saw that he had truly loved Deborah. At first, she did not realise the woman comforting him was Helen. She did not look quite right.

"That's not Helen!"

Barbara looked across at her boss. He was staring at the screen almost without comprehension.

"That's Helen 1. She was quite nice." Clara reached over and patted his arm. Barbara gritted her teeth.

"Helen 1?" Tommy asked.

"You'll see."

Barbara was not sure what she had expected, but to see the first time she and Tommy met so vividly splashed across the screen horrified her. She looked perpetually angry, made worse by severe frumpiness and a chip on her shoulder that was bigger than she was. "My God. Was I really like that?"

Tommy smiled. "Hmm, how do I put this? Yes."

Barbara felt her face flush. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

They watched a few scenes from Yorkshire. Tommy groaned. "Lovesick fool," he mumbled as he watched himself chase who he thought was Deborah across a field. He lapsed into sullen silence.

"You were rather sweet."

Tommy grumbled but gave her a shy smile. He laughed when Barbara spilt her tea in the nosy copper's lap. They both looked at each other when she later told Neis she had slept with Tommy. "You didn't have to do that. I would never compromise a case."

"I know that now, but you..."

"What?"

"Had a reputation. And with looks like that..."

"I didn't think you paid any attention to my looks until I saw you drooling over Parker."

"I was not drooling. And how can you be jealous of yourself?"

"Easily, it seems. Look. There, see, you were checking me out."

"Yeah, I was not in a great state mentally, but... I am human." Barbara knew her face had gone red but Tommy's grin was worth the humiliation.

"I like this scene." Clara interrupted what had become a private conversation. Barbara watched as the clips shifted to Bredgar Hall.

"I wanted you here because you'll come to the school with fresh eyes - without prejudice."

"Without prejudice? Apart from my opinion that a system which dumps kids with relative strangers is fundamentally rotten?"

Barbara laughed. "The look on your face."

"And you used to accuse me of being pompous."

"Yeah, well if the shoe fits."

Barbara stopped smirking as she listened to Lynley's conversation with Corntel. She watched Tommy's face colour as some of his secrets were revealed. "You should have told me."

"Would it have made a difference? You still thought I was the enemy."

She shook her head. "No, I didn't. I couldn't figure out why my prejudices seemed wrong. I put it down to an exception proving the rule."

They both watched in silence as Havers told Lynley about her father's death. For the first time, he called her Barbara. As they watched themselves on screen, neither daring to look at each other, but Tommy put his hand over hers and squeezed softly before letting go. Barbara had the sudden urge to bury her face in his chest. Instead, she stood and walked behind the sofa. "I can't watch any more of this." She turned and walked into the kitchen.

Tommy followed her. "We don't have to, Barbara. Not if it's upsetting you."

"And it doesn't upset you?"

"In some ways, yes, but in others..."

"What?"

"Maybe we will understand things. If we are characters then..."

"Were characters," she corrected him. "Without a future."

"That's why I came. To show you that the future is entirely yours." They both turned to look at Clara. "You can make it into whatever you want."

Tommy glared at her. "And if they start the series again? What if we go one direction and the writers fill in some cruel backstory, and we have to live it?"

"It won't happen. The show finished over ten years ago."

"Ten years?" Tommy steadied himself on the bench.

"You travelled back ten years?" Barbara asked. "You didn't think to bring next week's soccer pools numbers by any chance?"

"Havers! Is money all you can think about at a time like this?"

"Well, you don't _have_ to think about it."

"Even so. We will... I am beginning to feel..."

"Dizzy? All this can be a huge shock. When I visited Lewis..."

Barbara cut in and voiced it for them. "Scared. I feel scared."

Tommy moved closer. His arms came around her and held her tight. Even though Clara was watching and Marlowe was sitting on the kitchen bench with his obsidian eyes boring into her soul, Barbara allowed herself to snuggle against Tommy's chest and hug him back.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for the delay - real life and all that.

* * *

"I'm sorry." Barbara tried to pull free of Tommy's embrace. She looked around. Clara and Marlowe were gone.

"Don't be. It's normal to find this situation rather... disconcerting." Tommy tightened his hold. "I remember the last time this happened."

"You've been visited by people from other universes before?"

Tommy let her go, but neither stepped away from the other. "No. I was thinking of when you nearly beat that country policeman to death. I was so scared worrying about what might happen. You have no idea how relieved I was when I saw you were okay."

Barbara shook her head. "I was not okay. I don't go around blubbing on my boss's chest when I'm okay."

"We were both scared then, Barbara, and we are both a little scared now. I don't know what to think or feel. Having you close helps. Well, it helps me. We are always stronger together."

"Sir, I..." Barbara stopped speaking as the doorbell rang.

Tommy gave her a quick hug then pulled away. "That'll be the pizza boy."

* * *

Barbara helped Tommy with the boxes. Clara was waiting for them in the lounge. He put the boxes on the table then disappeared, returning with plates, serviettes, and three beers.

Despite all that had happened, Barbara helped herself to a slice of each pizza. "Thanks, Sir, Great idea."

He shook his head and smiled. "She never changes," he said to Clara.

"No, I think you both have changed a lot. Look at this."

Before either of them could object, Clara started the DVD again. This time they were driving to Sir Stuart Stinhurst's mansion. Barbara was being critical of the types of plays he produced and the tendency towards naked women appearing in them.

"You won't catch me," she told Tommy.

Tommy nearly choked on his pizza when he saw himself look her up and down with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Shame."

"Sir! Did you really say that to me?"

Tommy frowned. "Seems I did." He quickly ran his eyes over her body. Oh, yes, it was a shame.

The scene quickly changed. They were meeting the houseguests.

"That's Helen," Barbara said through a mouthful of Pizza Supreme as she pointed to a sour-faced brunette.

"That's not Helen!" Tommy cried.

Clara nodded. "Yes, it is. That's Helen 2."

"But she's a brunette and..."

"And?" Clara asked.

"She's dull," Tommy said sullenly, embarrassed about what he was about to say about his wife. "And... unattractive."

Barbara nodded. "That's exactly how I remember her."

"Barbara!"

"Sorry. I didn't mean the ugly bit. That is Helen though."

"But I feel nothing for that woman. Even there, you can see it. There's no chemistry. I don't even think we like each other."

Barbara frowned. "But you loved her."

"Not her I didn't. I couldn't have."

Tommy watched in horror as his onscreen version moped after her, jealous she was in love with Rhys. By contrast, his relationship with Barbara was filled with growing tension. Sexual tension. Chemistry. The first flushes of a genuine love.

Tommy looked at Barbara, sitting beside him on the couch still chomping on pizza with her eyes riveted to the screen. Could she see it too? There were no outward signs, not even a slight colouring of her cheeks. He sighed. She did not seem to feel about him the way he did about her.

The scene changed, and they were standing by a rusty gate. "I'm thinking of resigning."

Tommy watched as the scene unfolded. Barbara offering to resign, him scoffing but seeing she meant it, him accusing her of trying to be nice. But it was more. Much more. Somehow they had formed a pact. Where you go, I go. And it was still the same. Tommy watched himself helping Barbara look for her mother then reassuring her that she was not a crap daughter and that a home was the best solution. They had become more than colleagues. They were friends. They cared about the other in a genuine way. That had been new for Tommy. Barbara didn't care about his title. She cared about him.

He watched himself in Cambridge, refusing to take anyone but Barbara. He saw her end of their phone calls. She was far more open than him. She did love him.

"Barbara."

"What?"

Tommy grinned at her. "You kept that well hidden."

She looked away. "What? I was just lonely."

Tommy watched Barbara's face colour as they watched her reaction to him in the shower. Tommy watched himself, wet and standing in the doorway as if teasing her. Onscreen, Barbara was looking everywhere while managing to keep her eyes firmly on him. He was leaning seductively, and Tommy noticed that his towel was fuller than it should have been. He remembered enjoying her embarrassment, and now it felt crass. He knew so much more about her now.

He turned to his sergeant. "I'm sorry. That was ungentlemanly."

"Uh." Barbara nodded, but her eyes were still fixed on the screen. He smiled. Even now she was enjoying watching him.

Another scene appeared. Barbara was watching her mother being terrorised by the vacuum cleaner hose by her carer as a way to control her. A small cry came from his right. He put his hand on hers. "Hey, it's okay."

He swallowed hard as he watched Barbara taking her mother into the home. Barbara's guilt was palpable as she watched her mother transfixed by the television programme on abandoned animals. Lynley knew it had been a hard decision for Barbara, but this was heartbreaking. He shuffled over and put his arm around her shoulders. When she leant into him, he knew he was helping.

The scenes changed quickly. He shook his head as he watched them discussing love and relationships. At the time he had never noticed, but Barbara had pushed him into Helen's arms. It was clear that Tommy was looking for a reason not to do it and Barbara was desperately trying to hide her feelings for him. But it was there, as plain as day. Why hadn't he noticed before? Several more vignettes of Barbara's jealous acceptance of his relationship with Helen appeared along with several snippets of him with Helen. "How many times did she tell me she didn't believe in relationships? Didn't like kids? Only wanted to be friends? Was I stupid?"

Barbara smiled. "Not blaming the writers?"

"Hmm, good point. I should blame them."

Tommy had lost his appetite so put down his slice of pizza. The scene where he followed Barbara into the pub garden was poignant. He wanted to help her, but Barbara was doing everything to be prickly, yet he was looking at her with total adoration. In the next scene, he was sitting on the end of his bed ordering a rush job on painting her flat. His love for her was apparent. Even his onscreen-self knew it, but could not rationalise it or believe it could ever work.

"It wasn't control was it?" Barbara asked.

Clara paused the DVD. "I'm just going to the bathroom."

"Third door on the right," Tommy said, his focus not on his guest but Barbara. "No. It was everything but control. I just wanted to help you. To force you to move on."

"I guess she will have our fight on here."

"No doubt."

"I overreacted. I was overwhelmed, and... it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done but... I was scared we might..."

"Fall in love?"

"Make a mistake we'd regret. I couldn't risk losing you."

"We were already in love, weren't we?"

Barbara nodded. "Yeah, watching this, I think so. I thought it was just me. I was sure Helen was who you needed."

Tommy grabbed the remote and fast-forwarded through the tape, skipping to the end of the fight. They just watched each other's onscreen reactions, especially when she confided her guilt. Tommy's apology hit them both. "One thing you are _not_ is an inadequate human being!"

"How could I stay mad at you when you were my only friend?"

"I don't remember that stopping you often."

"But you didn't see what I hid from you."

"No. I wish you hadn't, Barbara."

"Blame the writers."

* * *

His kiss with Helen looked like he was kissing a cobra. For the first time, he saw the actor distinct from him. The man hated that scene. Barbara was looking on. Her sadness was palpable. Tommy felt ill.

"Stop. I can't watch this," Barbara said. "What is Clara trying to prove?"

Tommy moved forward on the couch and put his arm back around her shoulder. "I think you know where she's heading, Barbara."

"How do we know what's real anymore, Sir? What was real? What was some writer's fantasy? How can I ever trust my emotions again?"

"Well, if the series has ended now, whatever you feel belongs to you."

"Is it that simple? It's too soon to know what I feel, other than scared. For someone who's not real, I'm exhausted."

"It's been a lot to take in, Barbara. We're both exhausted. I don't care if there is another universe out there that thinks we're not real. I. Am. Real. You. Are. Real. We. Are. Real."

Barbara gave an ironic chuckle. "Now you do sound like a character. One who's been the victim of bad writing."

Tommy laughed. "Okay, I'll strike screenwriter off my list of potential jobs. Anyway, I like the idea of a universe revolving around me. The Lynleyverse."

Barbara shook her head but smiled at him. "Didn't Einstein have a theory about universes expanding until they got too big for themselves and exploded?"

Tommy snorted in mock affront. "Well, the show _was_ the Inspector Lynley Mysteries."

"I demand a renaming into the Lynley and Havers Mysteries. Far fairer after all I've had to endure."

"Endure? You've loved every minute of it." Barbara raised her eyebrows, making him grin at her. He shrugged. "Okay, not every minute, but most of it?"

"Yeah, most of it." Barbara allowed him to pull back into an embrace.

* * *

Clara stood at the door and watched them holding each other. They would be alright. Eventually, they would realise that they were in love. She wanted to shout at them to kiss, but they needed time. It was a process, and they had to discover the truth themselves.

Clara pulled her backpack into the hallway. Marlowe was curled up inside. She shoved his thick black tail down and quickly zipped it up before hoisting it onto her shoulders. She slid her arms under the padded straps and fastened the clip on her chest. "Come on Marlowe, take me home."

Clara closed her eyes and waited for the jolt before spinning lights, and unpleasant nausea from having her stomach forced into her mouth. Instead, there was nothing.

"Marlowe?" She closed her eyes and waited. Nothing. Clara moved further away from Tommy's lounge room. "Marlowe, Stop mucking about and take me home!"

* * *

"We should find our guests before Marlowe claws all my Persian rugs to shreds."

Barbara sighed as she pulled from his arms and stood. "She'll want us to watch more video. I don't think she realises how confronting it is to see yourself up there."

"I'll tell her we are too tired tonight," he replied as he stood and tidied up the pizza boxes.

"Thanks. Then will you take me home?"

"And leave the Devil's Spawn alone in my house?"

"Clara or Marlowe?"

Tommy grinned at her. "I haven't decided yet. Where is she?"

"I dunno. She said the bathroom, but maybe she's in your bed."

"Havers!"

Barbara spluttered, trying to form a sentence. Eventually, she asked, "will you let her stay here tonight?"

"I was hoping she'd go home."

Barbara sighed. "But if she doesn't, she'll insist we watch more of her tape. I don't think I can. Not yet. I can call a cab."

"Stay."

Barbara shook her head. "No. I should go."

"Why?"

He looked hurt. "It's hard to explain. I don't want to be alone."

Tommy frowned. "And how does going home solve that?"

"Forcibly."

"What are you trying to say, Barbara?"

"With everything that's happened this week, and even though you were mad at me, the only time I've felt safe all day has been with you."

"I wasn't angry, just frustrated." He put the boxes on the coffee table and moved towards her. She moved forward and laid her cheek against his chest. His arms wrapped around her and she could feel his face against her hair. His heart was thumping. She smiled knowing that he was also outside his comfort zone. He was still there for her, and she was grateful.

"I don't trust myself."

Tommy pulled her closer and ran his hands up and down her back. "Yourself? Or is that a polite way of saying you don't trust me?"

"I do. No, I don't trust what I feel right now. It's just... too much. With everything that's happened, staying on your couch is too much."

"My guests don't stay on my couch."

"I thought Clara would get the spare room."

Tommy groaned, then took a deep breath. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I want you to stay with _me_ tonight... in my bed. I need to know you're safe and that we are still okay."

"Sir, I..."

"As friends. I literally mean I want you to sleep with me. Nothing more. I know what you think of my reputation, but the writers are to blame."

Barbara leant back and laughed. "You're not going to play that card now are you?"

"I think I just did."

"So are the writers to blame for all your bad decisions?"

He grinned at her. "Definitely." He stroked her face and pushed some hair back over her ear. "Will you stay? Please?"

Barbara closed her eyes and nodded. She wanted nothing else but to lie in his arms and feel connected to the only person she had in the world. "Yes."

"Good. Then let's find Marlowe and Crazy Clara and get them set up in the spare room. Then... we can go to bed."

Despite his claim about it being just friendship, Barbara knew, for her at least, it was dangerous. She had never slept with a man. What if in her sleep her hands went somewhere they should never go? Her face began to flush with colour. This was a mistake.


	4. Chapter 4

"Clara?"

Tommy found her standing in his hallway, her eyes and fists clenched tightly, and the backpack on her back was jumping and twisting. She opened her eyes. "Ah, Tommy, Barbara. I thought it was time for me to leave, but Marlowe isn't working."

"Maybe he's tired, or hungry. The spare room is made up. Barbara and I can't watch any more of your video tonight."

Clara nodded. "Might be best. I'm not putting Barbara out of her bed, am I? I can stay on the sofa."

"No. Barbara will be fine in another room." Tommy did not want to share the truth in case it was misinterpreted.

Clara nodded. "It's odd though, Marlowe is normally keen to get home. He misses his girlfriend."

"Marlowe has a girlfriend?" It seemed odd that such a cantankerous animal was close to anyone.

"He does. A redhead. A nice tortoiseshell from next door. They are inseparable."

Marlowe was clawing and scratching to get out. His plaintive cries touched Tommy in ways he could not articulate. "For heaven's sake, let him out."

Clara opened her backpack. A black streak shot past Tommy into the lounge room. He followed. The cat had jumped up on the coffee table and had pulled open the box. He looked like he was smiling as he pulled cold pepperoni from a slice of pizza.

Tommy scooped him up, earning a savage bite on his arm. Fortunately, his sleeve prevented the razor-sharp teeth drawing blood. "Vampire!" Tommy hissed as he carried the cat to the kitchen. He opened his refrigerator and pulled out a plastic box. "Here. Some leftover duck from last night would be better for you."

"Meooooow," The cat hoed in as if he had not eaten for days.

"Good. Glad you like it. Eat, and then we can all get some sleep."

"You like that cat."

Tommy looked up to see Barbara leaning on the door jamb in a pose somewhat as he had used in Cambridge. Regrettably, she was still fully clothed, but the thought of her not being made him grin stupidly. "No, I don't. But I don't want him to starve."

"I always thought you were more of a dog person."

"I am." Tommy stopped rubbing Marlowe's ear. "I'm just being..."

"Sweet."

"Sweet? Hardly." The cat undermined his argument but rubbing its head against Tommy's shirt. "You made short work of that duck. Come on. Back to Clara."

"Duck?"

"It was the only meat I had." Barbara rolled her eyes. "I like duck," he protested as he followed her out of the kitchen.

* * *

Tommy showed Barbara to his room. "The ensuite is through there. There are some old t-shirts and sleep pants on the third shelf on the right inside the robe. Otherwise, stay dressed, or... whatever you are comfortable doing. I'll just return Marlowe and give you a few minutes."

Barbara nodded. The bed was huge. "Which side?"

"Of what?" Tommy frowned then understood. "Oh, either."

"Ta."

Tommy stood watching her. Barbara raised her eyebrows. "Oh, yes, right. I'll go then."

She watched the door close and shook her head. Her boss, for all his breeding and self-confidence, could sometimes be awkward too. She loved that side of him.

* * *

When Tommy returned, Barbara was in his bed. When she looked up and smiled, his whole insides clenched. "I'll just brush my teeth."

Tommy grabbed a fresh t-shirt and long pyjama pants from his robe before ducking into his ensuite. He quickly changed. His reflection in the mirror told a story of physical and mental exhaustion yet he was unsure he could sleep. So many things were dancing in his mind. "What a day."

When he returned, Barbara was curled on her side in the spot he usually slept. The sight touched him. She looked innocent and scared, yet filled the bed as if she belonged. He reminded himself of his promise to her - this was just two friends supporting each other.

Tommy extinguished the light and slid in behind her. He put his hand on her hip. Barbara jumped. "Sorry." He removed his hand.

"Don't be. Leave it there. I..." Barbara rolled on her back. Her face was only an inch or so from his, and he closed his eyes and forced his head not obey his instinct to move closer. "I've never slept in a bed with anyone else since... well, only my brother."

"It's not hard. Roll over." Barbara obeyed, and Tommy snuggled into her back and put his hand on her leg. "Comfortable?"

"Yeah." She sighed and wiggled her bottom into his thighs. "Thanks."

"Get some sleep. I'm here if you need me."

His words went unanswered. Barbara was already snoring softly.

* * *

Tommy woke with his hair being moved across his forehead. "Hmm, that's nice."

"Meooow."

"Marlowe?" Tommy's eyes shot open. His bed was empty. The red blare of his clock said 4:43. His stomach knotted tightly. "Where's Barbara?"

"Meow."

"Lot of help you are." Tommy got out of bed and scooped up the cat. "You can go back to Clara while I find Barbara."

He heard muffled sounds coming from downstairs. In his TV room, colours were flashing. Barbara must be watching the television. When he reached the door, he stopped. Barbara was sobbing into a tea towel.

"Barbara?"

She looked up. "Sorry. I... couldn't sleep."

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"You were tired too."

"No excuse."

"I heard Marlowe scratching at the door. When I opened it, he jumped up and curled next to you. There was no room for me, so I came down for a beer."

Tommy sat next to her and let Marlowe go. The cat circled then nestled in his lap. Tommy tried to push him away. "No. Naughty cat."

Barbara laughed softly. "He loves you."

"It's not mutual."

Tommy glanced at the screen and swallowed hard. It was his conversation with Helen just before she was shot. Barbara fumbled with the remote trying to turn it off. He took it from her trembling hands. "Are you crying because I told Helen I loved her?"

"No!" She shook her head furiously. "I'd never begrudge either of you that."

Tommy looked at the screen. That was the smiling Helen he remembered. The one who had loved him, and he had loved. This woman was a complete contrast to the Helen 2, the woman Barbara thought of as Helen. "Then what?"

"Because I know what comes next and I can't bear the thought of seeing you in so much pain again."

Tommy nodded. "Have you watched the tape?"

She nodded. "Yeah, some of it. I understand now... about your family. I'm sorry. That must have been hard."

"It was, but it was a long time ago."

"We've been through a lot over the years."

Tommy nodded. "We have. There was a lot of good with the bad."

Now Barbara nodded. "There were... but so many moments... we let..."

"Slip by?"

"Yeah." She smiled sadly.

"Barbara, I..."

"I didn't know you were jealous of me dating," she said over him.

"Don't change the subject."

"You were jealous, weren't you? Or was it a control thing?"

"Was I? I don't think it was control. Not entirely. I just didn't like the idea of you with... unsuitable men." Barbara backtracked the DVD to the scene. Tommy saw how angry and miserable he looked. "Yes, it seems I was jealous. I tried not to be. I wanted you to be happy, but I couldn't bear the thought of anyone else sharing you. I thought about stopping you, but..."

"But?"

"I was married. I couldn't offer you what I wanted to."

"Which was?"

"Being yours."

"Why do you always couch everything in terms of ownership? I don't want to own you. I never have. Same as no one can ever own me."

Tommy stood and slowly ran his hand through his hair. "You want the truth?"

"Yeah, I think we both deserve that."

"At first you intrigued me. Then you fascinated me. Then you captivated me. Somewhere between bickering about class differences, chasing criminals, laughing together at ridiculous things and sharing a pint as we argued about suspects, I fell in love with you. But you pushed me away. I never knew about any of those moments we saw earlier. I thought... I believed you were right, that our differences were too much for anything to ever work. I couldn't destroy our friendship, so I focussed on Helen."

Barbara went to speak, but Tommy held up his hand. "No. Let me say it while I can. Helen and I were friends. We were compatible in many ways, and yet I completely ignored her warnings that she was not interested in relationships. She believed marriage destroys love. We tore ourselves apart with guilt, mostly because we both knew that apart from our social status, we were only ever best friends. We loved each other, but not as husband and wife should. And yes, in case you are wondering, the sex was good. Not earth-shattering, but enough."

"I wasn't wondering." Barbara stood and walked to the other end of the room.

"When she left, I was relieved. I felt conflicted and guilty, and God knows, all manner of other emotions. I blamed myself. When you were shot I was sure it was the universe getting back at me for destroying my mother, and brother, and Helen." Tommy jabbed his fingers against his temple. "For loving you more than my wife."

"Tommy, no..."

They both stared at each other, aware that she had crossed a line that had been almost sacrosanct. Tommy gave a wry smile. "Tommy? Keep calling me that, Barbara. Please." He caught Marlowe as the cat jumped up.

"I'm..."

"Letting me finish." Tommy put the cat on his couch then picked up the remote and quickly found the scene where he arrived on her doorstep. "This... This was when I knew you felt the same. You were right about me not being able to follow through with Christine, but not because I felt guilty about cheating on Helen. It was because I didn't want to cheat on you. If you had invited me to your bed, I would have gladly gone. See... there... you are listening to me. No one else ever did, even Helen. Well, not after the band of emotional death went on her finger. You and I understand each other. We're soulmates. We are supposed to be together."

Barbara turned. "Really? Yeah, after that night, I thought so too. Look at this." She snatched the remote from his hand and fast-forwarded to when he was arrested. "See. That look on your face. You needed me, but it was more. Our relationship had changed. I thought..."

"Barbara..."

"Then the next thing... you're becoming an alcoholic sneaking drinks to face up to the consequences of your actions. I lied for you, and you are suddenly _grateful for my friendship_. Yes, it's touching given you never really talk about how you feel, but it was like being slapped with a wet trout."

"Aren't most trout wet?"

"Don't be smarmy, now's not the time."

"Sorry."

"Then this. More like a whale than a trout."

Tommy watched as Helen walked back into his life. For the first time, he noticed Barbara standing to the side watching. "I'm sorry. So very sorry."

Barbara snorted angrily. "You know when I watched this earlier, I thought you'd blame the writers."

"I could, but... that seems lame."

They stood staring at each other. "And?" Barbara finally asked.

"When Helen came back, she seemed different. I saw why we had been friends all those years. I admit it, I started to love my wife as I should. You and I... we had settled into something that seemed to work... for me at least. And when she was shot..."

"Tommy, don't. There's no point in upsetting yourself."

"Is it on the DVD?"

"I don't know. I was only up to the scene you walked in on."

Tommy sat. Marlowe jumped on his lap the climbed onto his shoulders and draped his front paws over one side, and his rear ones on the other. "What is it with you, Marlowe?" Tommy asked as he tried to push the cat's tail out of his face.

Barbara sat beside him. "Ready?"

Tommy took a deep breath. "Yes."

The collage cut from them beginning to chase Nina straight to him trudging forlornly up Primrose Hill. They sat in silence watching as Barbara found him and joined him. Tommy glanced across. This time she was closer, but her expression was the same cautious friendship. "Is the world still there for me?"

Barbara did not look at him. "Yeah."

"I've waited long enough."

"I know."

"Barbara?"

"What do you want me to say? That we'll be fine? I don't know that."

"Life doesn't come with guarantees. It comes with hope. You... you have always given me hope when none should have existed. I meant what I said earlier. We are stronger together."

"I know. But what if it's too late? What if we missed our window? Maybe we've gone too far to ever be more than friends?"

"What would make it too hard?"

"The other bit."

"What other bit?"

"What if... we..." Barbara took a deep breath and stared straight ahead. "Have sex and feel nothing?"

"Then we'd know. What if it is the best thing we've ever experienced?"

"My expectations are low."

"Thanks very much."

Barbara turned. "No, not of you, of me. I'm... not very good at intimacy apparently. I think I must be the lie back and think of England type."

"Are you trying to trying to scare me off? Or just too afraid to find out?"

"Neither." Tommy raised his eyebrows. Barbara looked down. "Both."

"Barbara, I love you. Today has been the craziest day of my life, but I can live with that if it means you love me back. We can make anything work... if we want to. Marlowe, stop that." Tommy pulled the cat's tail away from Barbara's face allowing the back of his knuckles to caress her cheek.

"Tommy...?"

Tommy leant over and replaced his hand with his lips. "I know. We don't have to rush anything. Just say you want to try."

"I love you," she said rapidly and softly, almost as if she was afraid he would hear.

Tommy kissed her. It was just a gentle caress, but it was a start. Her lips were hot and pliant under his touch. He wanted more. "Mmm."

"Mmmmm," she echoed.

Marlowe flicked his tail around Barbara's neck as if holding her in place. The end of it gently brushed their faces. Tommy took his hint and reached up under Barbara's hair. He supported her head as he kissed her again. This time it was harder but more confident. He waited. Then it happened. Barbara snaked her arms around his back and kissed him back. Without thought their lips stroked each other's, gradually taking in more until their mouths were open and Tommy's tongue founds hers. It was far from what she had predicted. Tommy felt wonderful. The universe no longer mattered if Barbara continued to kiss him like she was now.

"Mmm," she said again when they reluctantly parted.

Marlowe's tail flicked their faces making Tommy laugh. "I was thinking more like wow, or amazing, sublime perhaps. Or perfect. Not merely mmm."

"Mmm is a good start." Her voice was dark, almost seductive.

"Meoooow."

"Right. Time for you to go home, Marlowe." Tommy pulled the cat from around his neck and rubbed him behind the ear. He then took Barbara's hand and stood. "It's still early. We should go back to bed."

Barbara's face went red. "And?"

"I think I will kiss you again."

"Tommy, I..."

"Don't. Everything is at your pace. I'd never pressure you. When we make love, if we do, it will be because you want to, Barbara."

* * *

Tommy rubbed Marlowe behind the ears and leant close. "Thank you, Marlowe. Now you stay with Clara. I don't want Barbara and I disturbed. Understand?"

The cat rubbed his head under Tommy's jaw. "Meooow."

"Good. That's sorted." Tommy pushed open the door of the spare room and let Marlowe onto the floor. "See you later."

Marlowe settled his fur back in place then jumped on the bed and disappeared under the covers.

* * *

Clara woke when she landed with a thump on the side of her bath. "Nice one, Marlowe. You couldn't land us on my bed?"

"Meow. Sssss. Meeeooooow."

"Yes, I know, you'll miss Tommy. But they will be fine. They don't need us under their feet."

* * *

Totally exhausted, Tommy lay in Barbara's arms. Earth-shattering did not come close to how he felt making love with her. "Barbara?"

"Mmm?"

"I love you."

"I could tell." She sounded bright. "I love you too."

"I could tell."

"I was wrong."

Tommy froze. "About what?"

"Us missing our window."

"You were wrong about something else too."

"What?"

"You are not the lie back and think of England type."

Barbara laughed. "No, it seems not." She began to hum.

"What's that one?" he asked sleepily.

"No time, no place to talk about the weather. Promise of love is hard to ignore. Who said the chance wasn't getting any better, labour of love is ours to endure. I will run for shelter, endless summer, lift the curse. It feels like nothing matters, in our private universe. Feels like nothing matters, in our private universe."*

Tommy laughed. "That's true, it is our universe isn't it. To make of it what we want. You, me, kids maybe."

"Let's not get too far ahead, Tommy."

"Why not?" He pulled her closer and kissed her. "All universes start with a Big Bang."

"Tommy! You are..." Her words became a chuckle as they snuggled together and started to kiss.

* * *

* Crowded House, _Private Universe_ , 1994. If you don't know it, look for Neil Finn's acoustic version.


End file.
